by Rick Heinz
“Spit it out.”
“Righto. The Twin Cities is one of the Unification’s ritual sites. Think of it as a small coal furnace. The ritual being conducted is the flame inside. Souls of the dead are the coal. Since demons harvest dead souls, we bound big demons to be coal miners for us here in Chicago. The Twin Cities was built to contain the ritual, where the souls are burned as fuel. Chicago has a rich history of death and is close by, perfect for mining. It’s the same basic setup at the others.”
Mike raised his hand.
“Yes, Mike?”
“So what went wrong?”
“From what I guess . . . the flame inside the furnace is now a raging inferno. So the demons, bound in service, are trying to fill the demand. The ritual is requiring more souls than they have, so they are rushing out to cause more death. Since the gates are open, they are crossing out of hell to do just that.”
“Okay, well, let’s go put out a fire. Seems pretty damn simple to me,” Mike said.
O’Neil choked on a laugh. “Don’t be so quick to jump into fires. You’ll get burned alive. Let Frankie get back with info on how to best douse it. You guys aren’t strong enough to extinguish these flames anyway. Your first idea was right, Mike. Go out and harvest some demons. Fight together. Get stronger. I’ll give you until Frankie returns for all the hunting you want. All of you can benefit from it.” He stood up and started walking to the door. “With that said, don’t trash my city too much.” He looked back before he left. “You are my sons and daughters now. Don’t die on me again.”
CHAPTER 24
Chicago had only two seasons, winter and construction. In the transition period between the two, the streets were under heavy construction, and beneath them, the tunnels were a ghost town in their own right. The plan was simple, Matsen and Winters flushed out the hellhounds with spotlights. Phoebe would herd them, and Mike and Lucy would put them down.
Phoebe and her crew of bikers on crotch rockets raced past on Lower Wacker Drive. She slowed down long enough to give a wink and flash a peace sign at Mike, who was awkwardly standing out of position. Lucy dominated their ambush operation, taking the best spot between concrete columns as thick as a car, edging him out.
The hellhounds looked like shadows running at them, backlit by the remaining rocketeers as they used their lights to send them running. Some of the hellhounds defied gravity and ran along the ceiling, iron claws scraping away flecks of concrete. The hellhounds were faster than they had anticipated, at times outrunning the motorcycles.
Mike had a look on his face like a seven-year-old who just found the puppy dog, candy, and fireworks emporium, while Lucy acted like his disapproving mother who would not let him go in. “You can stand over there,” she said. Mike was sure that humor, or even smiling, was something with which the muscles in her face had little experience.
She was the first to move, slinking out from behind the column and spinning with her axe, burying it deep within the skull of the first hound. Carrying the momentum through, she ran up the wall, hurling her axe like a Frisbee at a creature running along the ceiling. She was already putting a dagger into the demon’s throat before it slammed into the ground, and she continued tumbling for another.
Cornered between Lucy and the hated light, the hound snarled and snapped its fleshless jaws as it charged right at her. She dropped into a roll underneath it, sliding between its legs. Mike was ready; at least he could send this one back to hell. He vaulted into the fray with a crowbar raised above his head, knocking the hellhound over and splitting it so that its intestines splayed out on the ground. Lucy cleaned off her dagger.
“Why do I get the distinct feeling I’m the comic relief here?” Mike said, lowering his weapon and sulking back to where Lucy demanded he stand.
“If the shoe fits,” Lucy said. She carved out the hearts of her kills, sealing them in a clay jar, and added them to the growing pile behind her column, which was about as tall as she was now.
“Hey, I’m holding back, you know,” Mike said.
“Okay.”
“This is punishment, right? Being stuck down here with you. Doc gets to go duck hunting with his shotgun. Matsen and Winters are out scouting. Me and you, She Who Not Know Talking.”
“I’ve trained since I could walk. You?” Mike recoiled, and his mouth stayed open as he tried to work up a reply. Lucy continued. “Oh right, Mr. Lucky is going to save the day by punching things,” she said. “What about the demons you can’t hit? There are more than just hellhounds, genius.”
“Right. Sorry,” Mike said. He wanted to say more, to tell her that this wasn’t him. It was just nervous chatter. Don’t make excuses, man. Just man up. Own your shit. “Any tips?”
“Stand there and watch. These are scouts we’re herding. It’s only a matter of time before larger ones start appearing. Stay out of trouble. I can’t let you get killed on my watch.” She held her axe at the ready again and waited. Above them they could hear the sounds of the next wave.
Mike watched her work each wave, an expert at her craft of killing. On the fourth and largest wave, he saw her cast the first spell he’d ever seen. She made parts of herself turn into a charcoal-colored mist to dodge attacks. Can’t wait to see her in action once she eats a heart if she’s already that scary. That would have to wait, however. From one of the maintenance tunnels, Mike saw a flash of green light. “Hey, look! Trouble!” he shouted. Lucy was engaged in intense fighting and didn’t pay him much attention.
Mike walked over to the opening, waiting for a demon to come charging out. Instead, he heard the sound of something scraping along the concrete. A pungent odor crept out of the smaller tunnel as greenish light flashed. Mike gave a concerned look back to Lucy. Eh, it’s only a little trouble. I can handle this one. Mike heard tapping sounds, claws against concrete echoing down the small tunnel. Tap. Tap. Tap.
Mike looked inside. Gaunt and emaciated, its skin pulled so tight over its body he could see the heart pumping even in the shadows. Gray and hairless, it flickered closer and shambled on a broken leg like a stop-motion film moving closer. With each flicker, a flash of green light came with it, adding to the effect. Mike felt its eyes level upon him. The creature reached out and tapped the wall again. Tap. Tap. Tap.
It wore a toothy grin as its stomach distended and protruded while it inhaled. Oh no, whatever you’re doing, it stops now. Despite a sense of natural apprehension, he ran around the corner, putting his feet into the wall as he got close, copying a move he saw Lucy perform earlier. He brought his crowbar down on the eyeless creature just as locusts were beginning to swarm out of its mouth.
Like whacking a beehive with a baseball bat. The head came clean off, and cockroaches scattered out of the body. It twitched and shook as its stomach exploded. Mosquitoes flew forth. Some managed to get into Mike’s mouth, and he could taste them, squirmy and crunchy. Get ’em off. Get them off! The smell was so bad he would retch if he could. Instead, he swatted everything as he began to feel the stings. He couldn’t see the exit anymore. Every surface crawled and moved. In seconds the walls looked as if they were made of water, pulsing and vibrating with millions of insects.
“My how mankind has grown. I must say I like what you’ve done with the place,” a woman said.
Mike tried to swat away beetles so that he could see, but he could only make out a figure. Someone dressed in a bowler hat with a cane and coattails stood at the far end of the tunnel. The hurricane of insects was not letting up its assault, and all Mike could do was remain standing.
“The slayer of Golgoroth brought down by mere plague demons. Well, the story will be a terrible bore if you were to perish this way. Eyes chewed out by maggots and your undead body a breeding ground for spiders.”
She tapped her cane a few times on the ground, and the insects seemed to obey her command by attaching themselves to the moving walls. With them swarming up to his knees, Mike was glad he wore boots, but that still didn’t stop the small ones from crawling in and
stinging his feet. She was pale and had a spot of freckles running across her nose. Short red hair curled around her ears from under her hat. Not what Mike was expecting from any sort of demon.
“You asked to ‘get ’em off,’ and so I did. A small concession before I take that soul of yours. Oh dear, I’m sorry. I am Marcus Danbury. It is my pleasure to meet you, Mike Auburn.” She bowed.
“Yeah, I don’t think it works like that. Wait, fuck that. I know it doesn’t work like that. You can’t just listen to someone’s thoughts, then do what they want and claim their soul,” Mike said. The sea of crawlers was getting deeper, up to his waist now.
“An expert on demonology, are we? Men always think they know how this works. That their new tools of war will save them from our invasions. After all—” She made an insulted gasp as Mike flung his crowbar at her. It flew past her as she easily stepped out of the way. “Ahem. After all, we have centuries and centuries of sinners at our call. Banished from your ignorant gaze, yet we are never truly gone, Mike. Now you are one of us. You’ve eaten our hearts, killed for pleasure, and condemned a man just to feed you.” She was closer to him now. He could see that her teeth were rotten and her breath smelled like a smoker who licked an ashtray. She whispered in his ear. “All your sins are laid bare to us.”
All right. Let’s take a minute here. I’m up to my chest in bugs. I got a monologuing demon inches away from my face. Oh, and she can hear my thoughts. Shit.
“Bingo.” She smiled. Mike saw Akira carefully crawling through the undulating swarm. Her neon-blue hair streaks and camo helped her blend in. A brown recluse spider latched onto her cheek. She didn’t flinch. “You should be proud. Your soul will fuel our needs for weeks,” she said as she ran her fingers along his face.
Mike watched Akira gently move a millipede the size of her leg out of her path. That is one big motherfucking bug. “You know I’m a huge fan of Mexican food, right?” he asked. “I’m a child of the eighties, so the first video game I ever played was Mega Man 3.”
She looked confused as she cocked her head. “Yes, darling. It is a ‘big motherfucking bug,’ and soon the locusts will claim you.”
“Marcus Danbury, you said? Why that name? You look human, but Lucy said—wait, are you a fallen angel? Is that what kind of demon you are? Neat! Tell me all about that.”
“We all have names, child, and you are a demon expert. Look at you. So proud of yourself.” She licked the side of his face, her tongue causing his skin to blister. “I would like to thank the Unification for breaking open the gates to the underworld.”
The insects were up to his neck now, a centipede crawling into his ear. Akira slowly rose, pulling twin one-handed scythes off her belt, readying herself.
“Well, Marcus Danbury. You’re welcome. It was nice to make your acquaintance.”
“Was?” She spun around as the scythes closed in, cutting off her head. Akira moved with lightning precision, impaling the demon’s heart and surgically extracting it from her chest.
Akira set herself to gnawing on the blackened heart like a ripe peach as insects scattered, freeing Mike from his prison. He rolled around on the floor and slammed his back into the wall as the remaining bugs scurried from beneath his clothes.
Mike was still plucking them out of hidden and uncomfortable areas when Akira spoke. She didn’t look much different, only now her eyes seemed more colorful.
“It’s a good thing everyone just focuses on you ignoring everyone else around them. You’ve that kind of presence. I think I’m going to like stalking you,” Akira said. Even as a human, she still resembled insects in her body language. “Just don’t mind me staring at you when you sleep.” She paused. “I’m going home now. I just ate seriously the best catch I could possibly find. I really hope I can change into a giant mantis. I wonder if I can cocoon myself.” She held out her scythes like claws, pretending to be one. “Thank you for your service, Boss.”
Mike only managed to wave good-bye. It’s going to be a long night. He made sure to pry his crowbar from the side of a wall. Walking out of the maintenance shaft, Mike was pleased to see that Lucy had added to her pile. Well, just how many can there be after all?
“Are you going to do what I said and stay put now?” She flipped her axe, waiting for Phoebe’s next shipment.
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied.
CHAPTER 25
Four in the morning is a unique time of night in the city of Chicago. One could stand in the heart of downtown and scream with nobody hearing. Mike walked along vacant streets among the giant steel skyscrapers. Not a soul to be found for miles. It appeared even the demons respected the sanctum that was this holy hour in the business section of the city.
Farther north, Mike was sure people stumbling out of after-hours bars were having their early-morning stupor shaken by encounters with supernaturals. It had been a long night. Mike’s green trench coat was covered in substances that no dry cleaner would be able to remove. If any are stupid enough to remain open after a night like tonight. Everyone else had gone back to claim their new prizes and unlock their future potential over an hour ago. Mike wanted to stay out to feel the pavement under his feet one last time before the sun rose.
One demon summoned bigger ones, and those in turn brought forth even more unique horrors. Heh, to think only a few weeks ago I thought teen vampire fiction was the worst we were going to be plagued with as a society. Still, the frigid night air instilled a sense of energy into Mike. It infused him at his core.
The lights are magnificent. I can feel this city in my bones. What’s going to happen now? Mike walked with heavy boots and ran his fingers along smooth marble from an oligarch-owned bank. There are more demons than in past nights. By now the news must have broadcast everything. Mike was isolated in combat with Lucy for most of the festivities, but the different types that were clawing forth from the shadows meant it was only a taste of what was yet to come.
The city, with its beauty and monolithic steel facade, still had its gutters where the lifeblood, the working class, toiled to erect glowing monuments to corporate greed. Underneath them, the forgotten and homeless were left to rot in this dystopian paradise. What happens if the demons that crawl forth from the shadows cut deals with them and buy their souls for power or money or liquor? In a way, Mike was satisfied with this thought. At least the balance of power will shift. Money means nothing to demons.
Mike saw the bank’s logo displayed in proud bold letters high above. “I’m working for a different sort of power vacuum, aren’t I?” he pondered out loud. People are more likely to bow and pray to their neon god rather than wake up and realize the truth of what happened these past days. This will all be some upcoming movie, and the government will come in and cover everything up.
Mike found himself feeling cornered. He worried he might be working for the very people he fought against for decades.
He resolved that he would stay true to himself and decided that a bit of vandalism was in order. It’s not like the cops are going to arrest me now. Besides, what good is super strength if you can’t indulge yourself a little? Mike got to work shattering marble, steel, and glass with his bare hands. The sound of his art echoed in the hollow streets with no one around to witness it.
He stood in the middle of a three-lane street and looked upon his work. “That’s right! You are hollow inside! An empty shell devoid of life!” he shouted at the building. “There is nothing to you! You are nothing more than a lie; a false sense of hope you provide people! You are devoid of ethics. You do it for your own greed! Go to fucking hell and burn a thousand years in absolute suffering, you sociopathic asshole.” He knew that breaking the bank would only cause more people problems and, even worse, that he was in danger of becoming the exact thing he hated. Maybe you already are, chief. Look at yourself.
Mike pulled a smoke out of his pocket, annoyed at the concrete dust that had mixed with some demon blood on his gloves. “Fuck this shit. I’m going home.”
He
wasn’t sure where home was anymore, and rather than go back to his ransacked apartment, he found himself running back to the warehouse. You know, I wonder if teleportation is possible. I’d like to never sit in traffic on the Hillside Strangler again.
The main level of the warehouse was empty. The carnage from Mike’s fight with Morris remained, beams torn, a dented truck, shattered barrels strewn about, along with the bloodstains from his first meal. Only now there was a handful of crotch rockets parked in the middle. Mike heard sounds from the sublevel. Makes sense, away from the sun. He trotted on down to find the entire crew crowded around a TV.
Lucy was as pale as ever, only now she was in a set of pajamas that were red silk and gold trimmed. They looked more expensive than Mike’s entire wardrobe.
Akira was not kidding when she said she would try a cocoon. She was stuck to the corner of the couch with only her wide eyes blinking and a game controller in her hand, swaddled in a mix of blankets and silk threads. Her fingers were a blur as she input commands from her self-made insect home.
Doc had on fuzzy slippers with bunny ears and was in old-man flannel pajamas that smelled of pipe smoke. He was writing in a journal and, without paying attention, pressing buttons on another controller.
Mike was disappointed to see that Phoebe’s choice of slumber wear was an oversized hoodie with cotton pants, mittens, and a purple hat with tassels. She lay stretched on a sofa they had brought down. Everyone else seemed to be down the hall, playing some other game.
“Where the hell did all this furniture come from? Last night this was a meat-packing warehouse. Now it’s a crash pad?” Mike asked.
“Heeeey, the hero returns,” said Phoebe. “Demon fight, in a furniture store, up in Old Town. Figured they weren’t going to use the stuff anymore. None of us felt like going home either. Doc thinks it’s safer if we all stay together in case one of us has a bad reaction.”
“What the hell are they doing, then? Are they playing Tekken?” Mike stood on his toes to get a good look.
